Jacob Wild has had a lucrative writing career, but somewhere
along the way he misplaced his muse. Now, unable to put anything on paper, he’s
resorted to hanging out in the neighborhood coffee shop with a pen and paper,
trying to find something to spark his creativity again.

That’s when he meets her.

Presley Abrams.

The coral-haired, tattooed beauty with the piercing gray
eyes and sweet smile draws his attention in a way no woman before her ever has.
Jake soon learns that when he’s around her his world is set to rights once
more. Presley sparks something inside him and not just his ability to put words
on paper.

But, Presley’s not the easiest woman to get close to and
Jake finds himself trying to answer the burning question:

“Can’t argue with you there,” I told her, pouring another
shot. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was talk about Adrian. Or anyone,
for that matter.

I’d spent the entire day at the shop handling three
walk-ins, all of whom had wanted tattoos that took more time to prepare for
than to actually ink. And now, I wanted to sit back, get wasted, then pass out
and sleep until I felt better.

“How was the sex with him, anyway?”

“With who?” I asked, playing dumb.

Blaze narrowed her eyes at me. “Adrian.”

I didn’t miss a beat before I said, “Boring.”

“Really?” Blaze snorted. “I always heard rock stars had it
going on.”

“Yeah, well, I think rock stars are the ones who started
that rumor.”

Blaze grabbed her shot glass. “You’re probably right about
that.”

We downed two more shots, and our laughter continued until
the front door opened and in walked Gavin.

As soon as he stepped in the doorway, he stopped cold,
watching the two of us closely.

“Wussup, Gav?” Blaze greeted him, her words slurring. She
looked at me and grinned. “He’s an outrageously hot guy,” Blaze said in what
she probably assumed was a whisper but wasn’t.

“I definitely am,” he agreed, that mischievous smirk on his
face. “Is this party just gettin’ started? Or are we about to turn on the
decision-maker lights?” Gavin closed the front door behind him and tossed his
coat onto one of the barstools, his eyes never straying from us.

“No, but you bought cheap booze, so there’s a fifty percent
discount.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Blaze snatched up the money and tucked it
into her bra.

I smiled at Gavin. “Grab another shot glass.”

After a quick detour to the kitchen, Gavin returned, setting
his glass down beside the other two, then dropping onto the couch beside Blaze.

With an unsteady hand, Blaze filled all three but ended up
with more on the glass table than in the shot glasses.

“What’re we drinking to?” Gavin asked.

“Hot guys nailing us to the wall,” Blaze blurted.

I rolled my eyes.

“Ain’t no guy nailing me to the wall,” Gavin grunted. “Hot
or otherwise.”

For whatever reason, I found that funny and ended up downing
my shot and nearly shooting it out of my nose.

“I’ve got a question,” Blaze said when the laughter died
down.

“No questions from you tonight,” I said immediately,
glancing over at Gavin.

As usual, Blaze ignored me. “I wanna know why the two of you
have never had sex.”

“Not a question,” Gavin grumbled.

“Okay, fine,” Blaze snapped. “Have the two of you ever had sex?”

“Eww. No,” Gavin and I said in unison.

“Are you fucking serious?” Blaze did not sound convinced.

I placed my shot glass on the table but waved Blaze off when
she started to pour me another. “Dead serious.”

“Why?” She looked genuinely confused.

“Because he’s not my type?”

Blaze’s eyes bounced back and forth between us before
landing on me. “But he’s hot.”

Yeah, well, I didn’t think so. “I don’t see him like that.”

Gavin was watching Blaze intently and I knew this wasn’t
going to be good. For the longest time, I’d gotten the impression that these
two had a thing for one another. Although Blaze pretended to be interested in
other guys—or maybe she wasn’t pretending—I got the feeling that if Gavin told
her to get naked, she’d do it in under three seconds flat.

“What about you two?” I asked, realizing the liquor was now
talking for me. “Why haven’t the two
of you
hooked up?”

Gavin grabbed the bottle and poured another shot, but I
noticed he didn’t answer. I looked at Blaze.

“Y’all are best friends,” she said, as though that made some
kind of sense.

“So?”

“So, you and I are best friends,” Blaze added.

“Does that make us all best friends?” I asked, trying to do
the math in my head.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nicole Edwards lives in Austin, Texas with her husband, their three kids, and four rambunctious dogs. When she’s not writing about sexy alpha males, Nicole can often be found with her Kindle in hand or making an attempt to keep the dogs happy. You can find her hanging out on Facebook and interacting with her readers - even when she’s supposed to be writing.

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